Heartwrenching
by Jareth's Labyrinth
Summary: My anger over the lack of sizzle between HP and GW at the end of HP7 caused me to write this. It's short and sweet. All reviewers get a ginormous, invisible happy face sticker.


**Here I am again, writing yet another HPGW fanfic concerning the end of HP7. **

**Call me a loser, but I just wasn't satisfied with the lack of romance at the end. :)**

* * *

Harry was exhausted, drained from his fight with Voldemort only a few hours before. It all seemed like a dream, now, a nightmare. But, unlike nightmares, it did not fade in Harry's memory. It shone there, bright and unyeilding, branded on the flesh of his brain. He had saved the world, yes, but at what cost? The deaths of so many, so many people that had not needed to die.

Fred, Lupin, Tonks, Colin Creevy...His heart ached with the pain of it all.

But he willed himself not to cry. Not when there were so many people around.

Sitting off to the side, with his back up against the wall, Harry could see a small portion of the Great Hall, where the Weasley family was gathered around Fred. He wanted to go over there to them, but felt like an outsider in their family grief.

Ron was sitting a little ways from his family, Hermione in his arms and the shadow of tears on his tired face.

He couldn't see Ginny.

_Perhaps that's the best thing,_ Harry thought sadly. _I don't know if I have the strength to look at her right now. I mean, it's my fault she's lost a brother._

"Come now, you musn't think like that," came the voice of Nearly Headless Nick. "You musn't blame yourself."

"How...?" _How did you know what I was thinking? _Harry started to ask, but thought better of it. "How can I not?" he continued instead, staring blankly at the opposite wall.

"It was Voldemort who is responsible for their deaths, Harry, not you," the ghost said. "They knew the heavy risk it was to be here tonight, and it was their decision. All of them died bravely, fighting for what they believed in: a better world, a safer world. And they succeded. By your heroic efforts, and the help of your friends, Voldemort has been defeated forever."

"But I should have done everything myself, found the Horcruxes myself," Harry said. "If I'd done that, then Fred would still be here. And Lupin, maybe even Sirius..."

"But you couldn't have done it yourself, and that's the whole point!" Nick said. "It's only with the help of your friends and your combined efforts that you managed to find all the Horcruxes, and sovle all the mysteries in between. Voldemort operated completely on his own, and that, Harry, was the cause of his downfall in the end."

Nick floated on down the corridor, passing through Harry's legs on the way.

_Maybe Nick's right,_ Harry thought, and the ghost turned around and winked at him.

"Of course I am."

A yawn escaped unbidden from Harry's mouth, and suddenly he was acutely aware of how tired he really was. The first rays of the sun were peeping up over the horizon, shedding a wan light over the remains of the battle.

Remains he didn't want to see.

Standing up, he followed his feet as he aimlessly wandered the corridors of Hogwarts, memories washing over him, unbidden.

There was where he, Ron, Hermione, and Neville had discovered Fluffy, way back in their first year, and there was the stair case that had the vanishing step halfway up...

There was a closet Ginny and he had made out in...

He and Ron had been attacked be Peeves right here...

And, still roped off, the tiny bit of Fred and George's Portable Swamp they had unleashed during their miraculous escape in fifth year. He could still see scorch marks on the walls from their fireworks...

Eventually, perhaps out of habit, Harry found himself in front of the Gryffindor tower entrance, staring at the portrait of the Fat Lady.

She swung open for him wordlessly, without him having to guess the password.

The common room, much to his relief, was empty, except for a few disgarded textbooks and over turned chairs. Choosing a couch well out of the way, he stretched out on it, closing his eyes and falling into much needed sleep.

* * *

Ronald Weasley didn't know what to think. On one hand, his brother, Fred, had died, right in front of his eyes. He was upset about that. 

One the other hand, however, the girl of his dreams was so close to him, she was practically in his lap, and holding on so tight, it seemed she would never let go.

And, oddly, Ron was okay with that.

Holding Hermione seemed so right, felt so good, he wondered why he had never done so before.

_That's because you two always fought,_ an unbidden and sheepish voice said in the back of his mind.

He kissed the top of Hermione's head softly, and ran his fingers through her long brown hair.

"Ron, have you seen Harry?" a quiet and subdued voice asked. It was his sister, Ginny.

Ron looked around. "Yeah, he was-no...hang on...Well, he was over there a little while ago, talking to Nearly Headless Nick. But he's not there anymore."

"I can see that, you prat. Where did he go?"

"I dunno. I wasn't watching."

"Oh well, if you see him, tell him I was looking for him, okay?" Ginny said. "I'm going up to the Gryffindor common room, to pick up something I left after I moved to the Room of Requirement."

Ron watched his sister leave the Great Hall. "You know, I don't think I've ever seen her that way before," he commented to Hermione.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she's all torn up, like, on the inside. And stuff like this," he gestured around at the general destruction, "doesn't affect her this way. She wasn't like this after the Ministry fifth year. Or after Dumbledore's death last year."

"Did you see her when Hagrid brought Harry up from the Forest, and Voldemort told everyone that Harry was dead?"

"No, I was too busy looking at Harry."

"It was quite heartbreaking. Like her entire soul had flown out of her."

"Kind of like now?"

"Yes," Hermione said. "You know, I really think that she loves Harry."

Ron choked.

* * *

Ginny walked slowly up the marble stairs, heading for the Gryfiindor common room. It had been a long time since she had been through these halls, a long time since she, Neville, and many other students had fled to the Room of Requirement. 

Too long.

But, the fight was over. Voldemort had been defeated, and there was nothing more to fear. People could come out of their homes, and live their lives normally again.

All thanks to Harry.

Ginny still couldn't get the image of Harry's dead body out of her mind. She didn't understand why it affected her so, why it completely tore up her insides. Fred's death didn't cause her this much pain, and he actually _died._

And that was the weird part. Harry had come back, and still she was messed up.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Weasley," the Fat Lady said, jerking her out of her musings. She had reached the portrait hole.

"I..I don't think I know the password," Ginny stammered.

The Fat Lady smiled, and swung open softly. Ginny climbed in.

The common room was a mess. Overturned chairs, abandoned textbooks, half-eaten candy wrappers, all littered the floor. She picked her way through the debris and headed for the staircase to the girl's dormitory.

And then something caught her eye.

Harry was lying on a couch, out of the way and in a corner. Her heart stopped for a moment, thinking that he was dead. But then his chest rose and fell in time with his steady breathing.

She walked slowly over to him.

* * *

Harry heard someone entering the common room, but did not open his eyes. He didn't really have the strength. 

But then a familiar flowery scent reached his nose as the person came closer.

It was Ginny. He felt her sit down close to him.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Hmmm?"

"Oh, Harry!" he heard her voice tremble with unshed tears and felt her hands trace his face. "I'm so glad it's finished, and that you're okay."

"Same," he murmured, his eyes still closed.

And then, somehow, she was on the couch, on top of him, her head nestled under his chin.

"Hold me," she said, and he did, remembering all too well how close she had come to death by Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry opened his eyes, and saw her pale, thin fingers entwined with his. The depressed mood within him burst, and Harry was consumed with a feeling he had never felt before. He knew this was the sole reason for living, this feeling, this closeness between him and Ginny. He smiled, and closed his eyes again, falling into a deep contented sleep.

* * *


End file.
